Really something
by VanillaMostly
Summary: Heather runs into Nate unexpectedly. Some words that needed to be said are finally said.


Didn't expect to run into him today. Obviously he didn't either. The look in his eyes, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey," I said, after that pause of awkward silence. Naturally, awkward.

He hesitated. A woman passed in-between us, seemingly in a rush as she went clutching her purse and grumbling something about the post office under her breath. We both glanced at her. When I looked back at Nate, he was watching me. Those eyes that were so familiar, yet so strange too, now.

"Hi," he said. For a moment I couldn't think at all as I stared at him, at that smile. It's been so long I've seen it - directed at me, anyway. "How you been, Heather?"

* * *

When I first met Nate, he wasn't smiling. He wasn't the smiley type, period. He glared and glowered and scowled nearly all the time. Which was why I wasn't happy at all when I got stuck with him for Biology lab. Of all the students in the class, why did I have to be paired up with the grumpy new kid?

Of course, things were a train wreck from the first day. He complained I was too bossy, when I tried to - politely, might I add - remind him it wasn't exactly fair for me to do all the work by myself. _Who are you, my mom?_ I think that was his choice of words, actually.

The teacher pulled me aside, telling me in a hushed voice that listen, Heather, I know it's tough but please understand that he's had some trouble at his old school. Seeing my expression Mrs. O'Brien just patted my shoulder and pulled her trump card - _Heather I'm counting on you alright?_

So I had to suck it up and endure my days with problem kid Nate Cross. Which was why I couldn't be more surprised than anyone else when five months later, he became my first boyfriend.

As the cliche goes, I'm supposed to say something like, "Well, he changed." Except, no. It wasn't him who changed, at least not then. It's how I saw him that changed. I guess it started the day he came to class with a stony expression, picked up the dissecting scapel and started doing his work. Mrs. O'Brien was pleased. She winked at me when she walked by, mouthing _Good job, Heather!_ But I had nothing to do with Nate's miraculous switch in behavior, and this bothered me. He must have noticed me staring, because he raised his head. "What?" he'd snapped. And I opened my mouth to give the usual irritated retort, only to stop. I couldn't put my finger on it back then, what it was I saw in his face that made me smile back instead, pick up the other scapel, and say, "Here, let me help."

How was I to know that four years later, when I did know what that look meant, it was too late to do what I did at fourteen? Too late for me to say anything as he said, sharply and loudly, "I'm not one of your charity cases, Heather." Too late for me to cry out, _no what are you saying_, because deep down maybe, just maybe I knew what he said was true. That all along, I'd only been trying to fix him. Because bossy, you-can-count-on-me Heather just had to fix anything that looked broken.

For that reason, among others, I walked away that night. Yes, I was the one who walked away. My choice. So it makes perfect sense that when - if - I returned, he wouldn't be there waiting.

* * *

Conversation fell flat by the time we stepped outside. It was drizzling rain, the sky a cloudy gray. I pulled out my umbrella. The stripe pattern on it for some reason was suddenly mesmerizing.

"Nice seeing you again," Nate was saying as he tucked his bag under his arm. Two lattes, one with a shot of espresso in it, no whipped cream. He used to like his coffee sweet. Two. Two lattes.

"... like fun. Right?"

"Huh?" I asked, tearing my gaze from my umbrella.

"Your internship. I said, it sounds like a lot of fun. Good luck with it."

I nodded, smiled. "Yeah, it is. Thanks."

He smiled back, tugged up the hood of his sweatshirt. USWIM. Right, he'd just told me he was swimming again. Next month he has a swim meet in California. Or was it D.C.? It was hard to focus on things right now. _Get a grip on yourself, Heather._

"I'll see you around," I told him, waving. Which was a lie. About seeing him around, I mean. Seriously, what were the chances of seeing him around, when we were half a country width apart? We shouldn't even be seeing each other right now. If it wasn't for the internship I wouldn't be... _Stop rambling, Heather. _Great, now I'm having actual conversations with myself in my head.

The rain made the air feel nice and cool. Concentrate on that. I reached into my pocket for my car keys, and that's when I heard my name over the raindrops hitting my umbrella.

"Heather!"

Nate was running over, his flip-flops making splashes in the puddles. His fashion style hadn't changed, at least. There was a time when he used to get annoyed at me when I dragged him to the mall to shop; he didn't get why my wardrobe couldn't just consist of jeans, shirts, and a pair of sandals. Well, it made shopping for his birthdays easy. A baseball cap or new swim goggles would do the trick. Did she buy him -

_Stop it_, I thought.

"What is it?" I asked him. He just looked at me, and I wondered if he could hear the edge in my voice. I looked away, down at my car keys. Keys. Like those necklaces that were a huge fad during my senior year. I almost bought myself one, until I saw who was manning the booth that was selling them.

"Heather, I..." His voice was quiet, almost inaudible over the rain. He put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, heart thumping.

"I want to thank you," he said.

My heart. Thump, thump. Done.

"About, you know... my dad," he clarified. He retracted the hand on my shoulder and reached up to scratch his ear, glancing around, shifting slightly. "I was a jerk to you that time. I know now. You were just trying to help me. Like, I shouldn't have - "

I shook my head. "It's okay.'

"No, I should apologize - the whole time I didn't - "

"It's fine!" My voice was too sharp. He looked taken aback. I flashed back to that night. Did I look like that, then? Did he even remember? "Look, I have to go... They're waiting for me, so..."

"Yeah, you're right," he said. "Sor - " He fell silent. I didn't look at him as I got into the car, started up the engine. _Just go,_ I said in my head. He didn't leave. Just stood there, his gray sweatshirt going darker and darker with rain.

Again I thought of that night. He hadn't said anything as I put my hand over his, and spoke his name one last time. But I thought I could hear his thoughts hanging in the air, clear as a bell. _Just go. Please. _What if I hadn't gone? What if I had stubbornly refused to leave, as he was doing now?

I stepped my foot on the brake and rolled down the window. The car behind me honked, which I ignored.

"Nate," I said, as rain splattered into the car, dampening my face. "Nate. I'm... just glad you're okay."

He stared back at me, and I sought those eyes for the Nate Cross I'd known. He wasn't there, but he wasn't all gone either. That would have to be enough.

"You're really something, Heather Wainwright," he replied. Smiled. A smile all for me.

"Yeah?" I laughed.

As I drove off the parking lot I kept my eyes on him in my rearview mirror, even as he turned his back to me and got inside his car, where a girl with red hair was seated in the passenger seat. At the stop sign I turned my gaze back to my windshield, listening to the wipers work their job, _swish-swish_. Yup, that's me. Heather Wainwright, who's really something.


End file.
